A Change of Plans
by Handwritten
Summary: Never the perfect couple, Roxas broke up with Naminé for what he thought were good reasons. Who knew being apart could be even more difficult than being together.
1. In the Kitchen

**A Change of Plans**

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><p>He ducked into the small side kitchen, and sighed in relief as the girl's voice passed.<p>

A surprised noise from behind him. He looked up, and stared.

She sat on the polished counter – all the empty cans and bottles had been shoved to the side – and she was staring back at Roxas, obviously not expecting anyone to have come in there. Her blonde hair was falling into her eyes, and she pushed it back to send him a critical glare.

"What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were gone for the weekend." Naminé said, blue eyes washed out under the lights of the kitchen.

"Change of plans." Roxas responded, cocking his head. "But how did you know I was going away?" He meant to say it in a way that would embarrass her, but it came out more curious than he had intended. She just shrugged her shoulders, leaning back on one hand. There was a can resting in the other.

"So, yeah. I decided to stop by. Why? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Yeah. Really happy." She mimicked his friendly tone, then scowled. "Are you trying to ruin my night?"

Roxas stepped closer, and he could see her tense. But he merely leaned forward, taking the can from her hand. He felt its weight. "Considering you're hiding out in the kitchen with a full can of beer, I would say your night was already ruined."

Her frown deepened, but he saw her visibly relax. "If it's so boring, why are you here? Go join the party."

"I was being followed."

"What? Mafia type 'followed', or-"

"A girl."

"Ah. Your life is so hard."

He only grinned; the easy banter between him and his ex-girlfriend was relaxing, in some strange way. They had broken up a few months ago, and at first, they had done all they could to avoid each other. It wasn't too difficult, considering they shared so few friends.

But the few times they had come face to face, the flurry of critical words between them was the best they could do, under the circumstances. Being polite was too awkward. Too unfamiliar.

"So, why are you hiding from this girl? Shouldn't you be out there 'making the move'?"

"It's not the same when they chase me." Roxas replied as honestly as he dared. They were treading on uneven ground. Talking about romantic affairs with an ex could always felt a bit weird. "I like girls who play hard to get." Frank honesty was one of Roxas' many _lovely_ traits.

"You're an idiot."

He acted like he didn't hear her, and took a large gulp of the beer he had taken from her. Naminé noticed how loosely he was holding himself, and she reached for the can.

"Hey – how many of those have you had, anyway?"

"Not many." He held it out of her reach, and quickly downed the rest before she could say anything.

He could feel her hand on his shirt, and she pulled on it until he turned to face her. "Oh, god, you're hammered, aren't you." She looked closely into his eye, searching for that dullness that had always appeared when he drank. But they were the same piercing blue, which gave her more relief than she cared to feel. "You haven't done anything tonight, have you?"

"Nothing, nothing..." He muttered, looking away – his gaze hovering about a foot away from her face.

"Roxas." She glowered, trying to regain his attention. Roxas had always hid his drunkenness especially well, and it could be hard to tell at times. But when he looked back at her, he seemed alert, and she couldn't smell booze on his breath.

His hand was beside her thigh on the counter. "Naminé..." He sighed, placing his other hand on the counter beside her, so her legs were between his hands. "You were always the best at playing hard to get." He said it in an almost melancholy manner.

"You're kidding me." The scowl returned. "I never _played_ anything."

"I know, I know." He groaned, his head dropping down. "That's why I hate it."

Naminé sighed, regretting the words that came out of her mouth: "Hate what?"

"I hate it how, after all that's happened, you_ still _manage to turn me on."

There was silence. Naminé wasn't all that surprised – he had said similar things before. Then again, he had always been drunk. But with all that he had said, Naminé could safely assume that Roxas was still attracted to her.

And she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Roxas continued, not noticing her discomfort. "You've ruined all the other girls. They all seem needy, and annoying, and desperate, and..." He looked up. "You were never like that."

"Gee, thanks." Naminé fought to keep her face looking as emotionless as possible.

"No, I'm serious." He had drawn closer, and his fingers brushed against her chin. "You were always so strong..."

Her voice was quiet. "You're making it really difficult for me." Their proximity was so close. He could smell her perfume. Had she always worn it?

"I am, aren't I." His hand had dropped to his side. "I can't say I'm not trying to. But it's not like I _want_ to."

"What's that supposed to mean, Roxas?" Naminé's mouth was turned down. "I cheated on you. You're supposed to hate me."

"You're not a bad person, Naminé." She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "You wouldn't do anything like that unless you had a good reason to."

For the first time that night, she couldn't find anything to say.

"I said I would always love you, regardless. And I meant it." Roxas reached up, gently tugging her closer until their lips met in a soft, brief kiss. A familiar, yet long absent, warmth radiated through to the tips of her fingers.

He smiled at her, almost sadly. Then the look was gone, and was replaced by a teasing smile. "You're beautiful even when you frown. But I like your smile more."

Then he was gone.

And the warmth faded as quickly as it had appeared, and for the first time in a while, Naminé felt the returning loneliness.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> _...posting for the sake of posting, really. yay! this will probably have another chapter or two, so put it on your alerts ;D_

_p.s - this is totally my 50th story on here. :D i feel happy.  
><em>


	2. At the Party

**Author's Note (!AT THE BEGINNING!):** Of the 160 people who read this story, 24 put it on their alert, nine favorited it - yet only three people decided to review (and all but one were anonymous D8). *sadface* you guys don't love me anymore?

It's the reviewers that make writing worthwhile. really. o.o

Anyway...bits and pieces of this were originally going to go at the beginning of the first chapter, but I ended up removing them.

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><p><strong>A Change of Plans<strong>

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><p>Why had Roxas ended up sneaking off into the kitchen, just like her? How did she end up in there, anyway? Was it some kind of cruel trick thrown at her by the gods?<p>

Well, that was easy enough to answer.

Naminé didn't go to many parties. For this particular one, she had promised to drive a friend home (chauffeuring plastered friends home was actually pretty fun. Not.) – but when she had finally located the dark-haired Xion, the girl had told her to relax and have some fun – the party was just getting _started_, apparently (it was well past midnight, but okay).

So Naminé had walked along the edge of the room, avoiding the stumbling girls and wandering hands of the boys best she could. But as she made her way carefully around a groping couple, she heard a loud, raucous laugh. She looked up. A group of people, who looked around her age, had caught sight of her, and were sending glares full of judgement. Her back stiffened, and she quickly looked away. Pretended to be looking for someone. Maybe they wouldn't bother her. Naminé was wearing a black cardigan and jeans, but she still felt exposed.

A moment passed before they stood directly in front of her. One of the boys, with very light brown hair, and surprisingly gentle hazel eyes, stared at her intently. They didn't look as gentle when his eyebrows grew into a frown. A blonde girl leaned forward, hissing, "I didn't realize _sluts_ were invited to this party." It was another variation of the popular phrase, many said to her face, though most behind her back.

"Oh, give me a break." Naminé whispered under her breath, even though she could feel the tips of her ears burning red. It wasn't the first time, yet it still felt horrible to have the words thrown in her face.

Naminé turned, just wanting to get away. Another girl took a step closer. Her lipstick was smudged. "I think it's time for you to leave." Some people walking nearby noticed, but quickly skirted around the group, either not wanting to get caught up in it - or to go tell someone else what was happening.

"I'm... I'm just picking up a friend!" Naminé quickly stammered, uncomfortable with the hateful glares being directed at her from all angles.

"Next time, wait outside. You're not welcomed here." The boy with the brown hair spoke, lips pressed in a straight line. He said it firmly and quietly, but Naminé could hear the malice buried just underneath the surface.

With that, he walked away, and they all drifted back into the crowd who had been watching intently. As quickly as they had formed, they looked away, interest lost. Naminé doubled back, looking for a place to hide out until Xion was ready to go. It had been months since The Incident. Were these people ever going to let it go?

With anxious glances both ways, she ducked into the kitchen.

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><p>So. I haven't written a story like this, but being ostracized is interesting to write about.<br>I'll keep writing as long as you guys keep giving me ideas. I'm just coming up with this as I go.

**Let me know what you think in a review*. I INSIST.**

***I SHALL REPLY TO IT WITH MUCH LOVE  
><strong>


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